


Sociopaths Have Bad Days

by xXsiciliaXx



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Sad Sherlock, you make it better
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-20 12:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4787354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXsiciliaXx/pseuds/xXsiciliaXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a case goes horribly wrong, its up to you to tell Sherlock its ok<br/>...<br/>It will be<br/>...<br/>Promise</p><p> </p><p>WOW thanks so much for reading this!!! Please tell me what to write next!!! Thanks!!!</p><p> </p><p>All on the tin folks</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sociopaths Have Bad Days

"CRASH!!!"  
You hear the tiny flat's door slammed shut, with such anger and frustration you know who shut it. Poking your head around the door frame you see his skinny body up against the wall. John scurries up the stairs and sees your face, filled with worry. "It-it's the case," he stutters. "It didn't end well, at all." You look at his eyes, they were brimming with grief. "What hap-"  
"JOHN!"  
He turns his head towards the angry Brit. He turns back to you for a seconds and whispers "I'll try to calm him down." in a forlorn voice. As he walks down the stairs you settle back down into the chair you had been reading in. The door opens, then shuts, and you know it was John leaving. He never, well ALMOST, never slams the door. Poor Mrs. Hudson almost has a heart-attack every time Sherlock does it, let alone John. you hear him talking to himself as he walks up towards the top floor. suddenly he whips his head around and faces you. "I didn't know you were here." he states plainly. "I was coming over for a cuppa, John invited me earlier." you reply modestly. He glares down at you and his eyes burn into your (E/C) ones. He thrashes his hands through his hair and begins his rant. "Stupid, stupid, STUPID! THEY WERE CHILDREN! I LET THEM DIE!" he pushes some papers of a desk, and as they fall to the floor you gasp. Sherlock never became concerned for the dead. Yet, this time, it was children. Ever since Moriarty had pulled the case of the callings and the riddles, and had used a child, Sherlock had grown fond of them. In his own way. No wonder he was so, CORRUPTED. Your thoughts were interrupted with a loud crash. You see Sherlock standing above a broken picture.  
"Case solved. The bomber caught. The foster home, destroyed, burned. 31 children, DEAD." he spits out.  
You are stunned to see the picture of all three of you shattered on the ground.  
Then horrified to see his white hands turned red with blood, oozing over his knuckles, and glass shards sticking out of it.  
"Sherlock STOP!" you yell and run over to him.  
"Why should I?"  
You grab a first aid kit and reach for his hands.  
"WHY SHOULD I?! ANSWER ME!" he screams and pulls his hand away.  
"This isn't good for you! Let me help you!" your hold our your hand.  
Silence  
"I failed. They died." he says in a shaky voice.  
A tear rolls down his face.  
"Sherlock... You did save them. You didn't let them die for no good reason."  
He glares at you, and puts his hands in yours.  
"I-I feel.... what is this feelings driving me mad."  
"Sympathy."

Mores tears roll down his face and you finish wrapping up his hands.  
He hung his head and you blink.  
How do you help him?  
He was so broken.  
Breaking.  
You reach around him and hug him.  
"Sherlock, nothing I say will fix this. So I wont speak at all."  
He takes in a shakey breath, and wraps the damaged hands around you.  
"Don't leave." he chokes out.

 

"Never."


End file.
